Visions of My Grim Past and Present
by mvirella12
Summary: Edward's life as an American Colonist in Boston under the rule of the British parliament King George.Based in the 1770s.


I wake up with a sweat of beads on my forehead and sat up on my bed running a hand through my now damp hair. My knee length white plain shirt clings to my chest with sweat as I tried to control my heavy breathing. I pat my face clean with my soft blue covers and a wave of grief, anger, and fatigue enters through my body as I remember the continuous nightmare that haunts me ever since the dreadful and injustice day that changed my life four years ago on March 5, 1770.

My father, Sir Edward Mason, was growing angry and felt repressed by the British parliament and the soldiers King George had sent to the American colonies. On the morning of March 5th my mother, Elizabeth Mason, a petite brunette wearing a reserved casual pale green gown who always had a warm and tender appearance.

She was trying to relax father's stressed expression, who was leaning forward on the wooden kitchen table concerned about the taxes the parliament was raising. Mother like always kissed him lovely on the cheek right below his white curled wig and said "I love you" staring into his emerald eyes with adoration and love. Father's face melted quickly into a warm wrinkled smile, he touched her cheek affectionately, and bid her farewell heading on his way to work soon near the ships and merchants at King Street in Boston.

I was leaning against the threshold to the kitchen watching them when his tall strong figure walked towards me in a light cream three piece suit, stockings, and black heeled soft leather shoes. He bid me farewell informing me to take care of mother while he was gone, since I was the second man of the house. I nodded and with one last glance at his departure figure I saw his very troubled eyes.

"Edward?" mother's worried but passive voice broke me out of my memories when she called me downstairs. With a small groan I slowly dress in a clean shirt with my light blue color waist coat, trousers, stockings, and my white cravat around my neck. I descend down the broad stairs emotionless with heavy steps as I try to fit my white wig carelessly on to greet my heart broken mother in the small decent kitchen.

That morning was the last time we saw father alive because that night, or as the Gazette described it as the Boston Massacre, there arose a violent fight on King St. between a couple of angry colonists including my father and British soldiers. The soldiers fired armed, shot, and killed about five colonists.

I remember mother opening the door to a plumped old gentleman and witnessed the life in her eyes disappear as she fell to our wooden floors with a small anguish cry tears overflowing her eyes unable to bear the tragic news he had informed her. I had held her tightly fighting back my own tears grieving father's death and in a way I lost my mother that day too.

The loud pound outside the door ended my depressive musing and with caution I progress to the open the door. Immediately I am thrust aside by five red coated armed British soldiers who brusquely command me that they need a place to sleep and eat. Angry and tense by their behavior I leave without a word to inform mother of our intruders.

During supper the soldiers have ill manner, ungentlemanly like behaviors especially when they start to touch my mother as she serves them food. They laugh loudly mocking us and our people, drinking all our red wine, dining like wolves, vandalizing, and disrespecting our home without a care. It does not go unnoticed by me how much mother is suffering inside and how these soldiers bring back sorrowful memories. When I look into her tear fill eyes the resentment, anger, and sad I have repressed escapes my body.

Rage controls m actions as I start to attack that blue eyed cold hearted soldier across me with my fists. My vision is a blur in the background I can't hear my mother's cries to stop or notice one of the soldiers grabbing his rifle gun.

A deafening sound pierces through the air and I feel myself fall my world turns black as my soul.


End file.
